


Friendly Competition

by thebearking



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, French Kissing, Friendship, Gender-neutral Reader, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Other, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rough Kissing, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10847016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: Sam and Bucky argue over who's the better kisser. You'll be the judge of that.





	Friendly Competition

**Author's Note:**

> feels good to be writing fics again! i've had this idea in my head for a little over a week. hope yall like it!
> 
> gender-neutral reader here, even if bucky calls them "doll."
> 
> edit: i realize after re-reading this for like the fifth time that i use the phrase "panty-dropping stare." not meant to mean that this reader is femme, just put in there cuz i thought it fit.

They were bickering when you entered the kitchen for lunch that afternoon.

“It’s gotta be me. I’ve had the most practice.”

“When’s the last time you even kissed someone?”

“When’s the last time _you_ did, old man? The _thirties_?”

You rolled your eyes as you made your way to the fridge, hoping to find sufficient ingredients for a bagel sandwich. Listening to Sam and Bucky argue was the last thing you wanted to do after an hour-long workout, but you couldn’t help but be curious. “Should I even ask what you two are arguing about?” you asked, flashing Sam and Bucky a withering look over your shoulder.

Bucky defended himself immediately. “Sam here thinks he’s the better kisser. I’m trying to tell him why he’s wrong.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh, there is no way Snowflake here is better than me. He can run, he can lift, he can fight, but I draw the line at kissing. Help me out, Y/N.”

“Sam, I wouldn’t even know,” you told him, taking a moment to relish the cool air wafting from the open refrigerator. You found the cream cheese, butter, and cherry tomatoes before letting the door swing shut. “I’ve never kissed either of you. All I know is from what you two brag about to Steve and me, and even that has to be pretty biased.”

Bucky snorted. “Please, doll, I speak nothing but the unbiased truth.”

You shrugged and started gathering your supplies. You were making a grilled cheese bagel sandwich and if that meant having to weather their bickering, so be it. “Whatever you say, Bucky.” You wondered if you should grab your earbuds and drown them out with music.

There was hushed murmuring back and forth between the two of them, and then Sam cleared his throat. “I mean, you’re right,” he began. “You’ve never kissed either of us.”

You turned around, fixing him with narrowed eyes. He was leaning with his elbows on the counter, watching you with a playful glint in his eye. “And?”

“Maybe to put this argument to rest,” Bucky chimed in, stepping around the counter and making his way toward you, “you need to see for yourself who’s better.” He stopped by the fridge, lifting an eyebrow to punctuate his proposition. “Whaddya say?”

You blinked. Had he really just suggested that you kiss him and Sam? Was Bucky really giving you the panty-dropping onceover and was Sam really licking his lips like you were some mouthwatering dessert? Your teammates, your friends, two men you’d worked with for years now, men you had never pictured yourself being romantically or even sexually involved with—well, not often. Your mind wandered every now and then, when you saw Bucky lifting weights shirtless or Sam slow-grinding to old-school R&B while he cooked breakfast. Okay, maybe you did picture yourself with them a few times, but it meant nothing. You pictured them as much as you pictured Steve or Thor. You worried that getting a taste of the real thing would enhance your fantasies by tenfold, and you were still sweaty (and half-dressed) from your workout, but none of that stopped you from looking Bucky straight in the eye and saying, “Fine. Who’s first?”

There was the slightest expression of surprise in both Bucky and Sam’s eyes, but neither of them hardly wavered from his confidence. They exchanged a look, and you crossed your arms. “Well?” you prompted, only half-feigning impatience.

Bucky turned back to you, slipping effortlessly back into that predacious swagger of his as he sauntered up to you. The T-shirt he was wearing clung to every inch of his chest and exposed just enough of his arms to make you sigh with longing. He smelled amazing. His hands slid up your arms to your cheeks, cupping your jaw as he leaned down. “Ready, doll?”

You nodded. Bucky smiled and sealed his lips to yours.

You knew Bucky had gone several decades without affection. He’d come to the Avengers headquarters a touch-starved wreck, plagued with nightmares, anxiety, depression, problems you had all wished you could heal with a simple push of a button. He was far from completely healed, but now you saw firsthand that his craving for human touch hadn’t diminished in the slightest. His kiss was _ravenous_ , desperate. You gripped his shoulders with your hands, letting your eyes flutter closed. He used his gentle grip on your jaw to tip your head back, pressing his hips into yours and grinding into you. His metal hand felt wonderfully cool on your skin, and you wondered how it would feel elsewhere on your body. He nipped at your lower lip, making you whimper, and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You reciprocated as best as you could, lost in the ecstasy that was Bucky Barnes, until he finally pulled away, his lips detaching from yours with a soft, wet smack.

You swayed a little on your feet, but Bucky’s hand on your hip kept you steady. “Wow,” you exhaled, feeling like you were buzzing all over. “Nice.”

Bucky chuckled. “‘Nice’? I was expecting some higher praise, doll.” He squeezed your hip and stepped away from you. “Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll be right here. Your turn, Samuel.” He clapped Sam on the back as he sat down at the kitchen island, smirking.

Sam seemed impressed but not the least bit shaken. He rose from his seat and walked over to you, his brown eyes locked with yours. They were so warm, filled with an intensity unlike any look you’d ever seen from Sam. “Good?” he murmured, his arms encircling your waist to draw you up against him. You hadn’t noticed that you’d been leaning against the counter for support.

“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly, and Sam kissed you.

Where Bucky’s kiss was wild, Sam’s was soft. His lips were so plush, moving against yours with an unhurried rhythm, like this was a regular occurrence. The gentle approach had you feeling just as heady, as his hands roamed your body, from your shoulders to your waist and teasingly close to your ass. You held your hands on his chest, partly for the sake of your own balance. He used his tongue before his teeth, licking your bottom lip and asking for entry. You allowed it, and his tongue rubbed tantalizingly against yours. Sam had bragged countless times about what an amazing lover he was, always taking his time, savoring every moment, every touch, every sensation. Evidently, the same was true of his kisses. Sam’s kiss was slow, slow and sensual, and you felt like you could go on like this for hours. He was teasing you, and when you tried deepening the kiss, he smiled against your lips, amused at your eagerness. His hands finally dipped down and squeezed your ass, just once, but enough to make you gasp. He moved one up to the back of your head, the other to your waist, letting his fingers rove aimlessly over your bare ribs.

You sighed heavily, and it came out more as a moan than a breath. Sam pulled away, grinning at you smugly. He released you from his arms, wiping his mouth with the pad of his thumb. You’d possibly gotten a little carried away, you decided.

“What? No ‘wow’?” Sam joked.

You shook your head. “Wow,” you croaked, reaching behind you to grasp the counter.

“Who’s it gonna be, doll?” Bucky piped up, watching you curiously.

You mulled it over in your head, the two kissing styles, both so different, yet so enticing: Bucky, who kissed with as much fervor as he sparred, and Sam, who left you weak and wanting so much more. You couldn’t care less; they were both downright sexy. “Can’t tell. You’re both too good. I think I’ll just eat my lunch in my room. Mind cleaning this up?” With that, you grabbed a pear and a couple bananas from the fruit bowl and started exiting the kitchen. “Thanks, boys.”

Bucky and Sam sat there, openmouthed and unbelieving. “Wait, you can’t just—you said you’d decide!” Bucky cried after you, watching your shaky form pad down the hallway.

You laughed. “If you really need to know, why don’t you kiss each other?” you offered lightheartedly.

Bucky blinked. He looked over at Sam, who looked equally taken aback. They wouldn’t…Would they?

Sam turned to Bucky and shrugged. “Pucker up, Snowflake.”


End file.
